Chris Milam Interviews Jeremy Stanfill

Like a lot of Memphians, I heard Jeremy Stanfill long before I met him. As a singer/songwriter in Nashville and NYC, I always asked friends back home in Memphis who they were listening to, what good shows they’d seen lately, etc. One name kept popping up: Jeremy Stanfill.

When I moved back to Memphis in September, I happened to see Jeremy play three times in the same week. I was blown away, not only by his vocal range, heart-felt songs, and expert band, but by his visibility–he’s one of those artists who seems to play constantly. Once I had the idea for this monthly feature, I knew I had to start with one of the Memphis music community’s most active members: Jeremy Stanfill.

A conversation with Jeremy is just like his songs: honest. We sat down last week at Otherlands, drank some coffee, and talked about music, life, Jeremy’s new Tennessee Heartbreak single, Memphis, and more.

Thanks a bunch, Jeremy. The idea here is to talk to a different person in the Memphis music scene each month. After a while, we’ll get an idea for how all the pieces fit together to make that community work. Also, I wanted to give exposure to all the great talent around town. I’m glad to be starting with you.

For sure, man. Thanks.

Where’d you grow up?

I grew up in Memphis, in a part of town outside Frasier called Raleigh.

When did you start playing music?

I guess I started playing instruments before I can remember–I was five or so. My dad’s a drummer, so I started on drums. We were like a little instrumental band, playing all around town, playing stuff like “Green Onions,” Booker T & the MG’s.

You’re a multi-instrumentalist. When did you pick up guitar and piano?

My family got me a crappy little guitar from a junk store. It had three strings on it, so I started learning songs like “Pipeline” and “Wipeout” on it. I was probably about nine or ten at that point. With piano, it was the same kind of thing. I was one of those kids who’d walk into a store and jump on a piano, just drawn to it. The first song I learned was “Kansas City,” and my grandma loved it.

When did the Tennessee Heartbreak/Seasons single come out?

September 2010.

I’d heard “Seasons” several times live before I heard it on the album, and each version was different. Live it was more electric, up-tempo, and the album version is a bit slower, more acoustic-driven. How’d you decide on that arrangement for the single?

I wrote that song in 2009. It was the first day of fall and I had serious writers block. I remember I sat down and had this lick in my head–the main guitar lick of the song. I was in a band called Streetside Symphony at the time, so all those songs were songs I was writing for that band’s next record. We ended up breaking up. So when we arranged it, I had that arrangement already for the song when I went solo from the band and was playing acoustic a lot, singing a little differently. So I’ve had that version in my head pretty much the whole time.

It’s a great arrangement–it sounds like the first day of fall. How’d Streetside Symphony break up?

When I was fourteen up until last year, we were basically the same band, with just three different names. We went through the ringer, played and played for almost fifteen years. Around 2000, I guess we started getting pretty popular. We were selling out clubs around Memphis and showcasing for labels out in LA. We showcased for Maverick, Madonna’s label out there. They were wanting us to sound more like The Used, or Story of the Year, and we didn’t want to play that kind of music. You know, as a songwriter, you’re always writing, and it might not always fit in the same box.

So we changed our style, changed our name to Streetside Symphony, kind of lost that old fanbase. We got another record deal with this producer in Atlanta in 2008 and put out a record called The Curse. Then we broke up. It was fifteen years–you know how it is. It’s like being married. There was a lot of history, and we were trying to hold onto something we started when we were fourteen.

Now you play as a solo artist, Jeremy Stanfill, but you play with a full band. Who’s in your band now?

Landon Moore (bass), Pat Fusco (keys), Ryan Peel (drums), George Sluppick sometimes from the City Champs (also drums).

So George from the City Champs sometimes drums with you. Landon plays with This Is Goodbye and others. I know Ryan’s got his own solo thing. And you play drums with Star & Micey. That’s one great thing about the Memphis music community–everyone’s one degree of separation away, at most. Who else do you play with in town?

I play with Jack Oblivion sometimes. That’s really when Star & Micey play as his backing band, so I’m playing drums then.

The first time we met, you told me that sometimes while you’re performing, you’re thinking, “I don’t like this song, I’m not feeling this right now…” That struck me as really honest. It’s something all performers have felt, but almost none admit to.

Yeah, man. Lots of times, I don’t even like my songs. A lot of these songs I’m not writing for any reason but to get it off my chest. That’s just the kind of song I usually write–maybe I’m just a sad bastard.

Any tour plans in motion? Playing it by ear?

The hard thing is, I’m paying my band now. That’s all new to me. The last fifteen years, it was like a band of brothers, we’re all chipping in together. You know how that is. Now I’m paying guys to play with me, and they’re looking at me like, “tell me what to do, boss.” So it’s all on me.

So when I go on the road now, I don’t mind going and sleeping in a car and not making any money, but it has to just be me and an acoustic guitar, maybe a bass drum. That’s probably the type of touring I’ll do.

Exactly. With my new record being stripped down, acoustic-leaning anyway, that’s how I’ve been touring lately. I’ve really enjoyed it. I noticed so many of your songs really build to a fever pitch live. Some of them do on the record. Is that something you plan out ahead of time, writing and rehearsing, or do those big builds happen naturally during a performance?

When I write, I’m thinking about the whole picture, because I play lots of different instruments. So I’m definitely hearing all of that. Live, it’s just an energy thing. With this band, we don’t really rehearse. It’s all improvised, and we kinda just feed off each other.

You’re a really impressive singer live. When did you feel like you found your voice, your vocal style?

When I was young, I was imitating the bands I liked. So I spent all my time singing out of my range, trying to sound more punk than I did naturally, really hurting my voice. Then we started writing poppier stuff, more like Coldplay, Foo Fighters.

When you’re a little kid performing, you want to get onstage and make your parents think you’re good. Then you enter a talent show a nine years old, and you lose, you feel like something’s wrong with you. Performers either hear how great they are or how bad they are, so it can mess with you.

As a singer, I guess I just learned what worked for me. Someone told me that if you sing in the same register that you speak in, that’s your sweet spot. I always had a bluesy, soul-style voice, but when I was younger, I didn’t think that was cool. I tried to hide that; I thought I sounded like a redneck. But I always loved that kind of music–Motown and Stax, bluesy, soulful stuff. At some point I realized it was cool to like Otis Redding, and to sound more like that than, you know, Nirvana.

What’s your weekly schedule? It seems like you’re playing out every night of the week.

I’m at the Blue Monkey on Tuesdays. I’m at a place called the Silly Goose on Wednesdays. Celtic Crossing on Thursdays, and random shows in between.

[Jeremy also helps put on a songwriters’ night at Neil’s on Wednesdays, called the Barstars. It’s a weekly free show that showcases some of the best songwriters and players in town, just trading off songs.]

And these shows are essentially your day job?

Yeah, yeah. I remember working at all those good-ole-boy jobs and hating it. I worked in a warehouse where you had to save up to get your own truck. I saved up, worked really hard, and the day I paid it off, I said, “I can’t do this anymore, I quit.” I sold the truck, bought an amp, and never went back to “work.”

Have you ever thought about leaving Memphis?

Yeah, around those old Crippled Nation days, we were seriously going to move to California. Then in 2008, when Streetside Symphony got that other record deal, we considered moving to Charleston. It just didn’t happen. I guess it’s kind of scary. Like, how old were you when you first left home?

Eighteen.

Right, and it’s probably scary and exciting. But once you break that barrier the first time, it gets easier each time. But I’ve never done it, so it can be scary on the front end, especially since I’m on my own.

What makes Memphis’s music community unique?

Everything. This is a great town. We all live here, so we all know it and take it for granted. But even just little things, like our record stores are great. There’s just a lot of great musicians here. For all the great talent here, it seems like only a few really find success.

How do you take your coffee?

I don’t really drink coffee.

Ha, what’s that then? Iced latte?

Yeah. I thought it was too early for a beer.

It’s never too early for a beer. If you had to enter one Olympic sport and the fate of America depended on you winning gold, which sport would you enter?

Wow. I think it’d be pretty fun to luge. It’s not really up to you where you go–you’re just along for the ride. Try not to die.

What’s one American city you’d love to see that you haven’t yet?

New York.

Dream artist you’d open up for?

I’d love to play with Tom Petty. As you can probably tell, I talk about him a lot.

I’m assuming you’ve heard Mojo. I think that was my favorite album of the year. He’s still so damn good.

It makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve never heard of anyone who can write so many songs with the same old chords and they’re all awesome.

Best advice you’ve ever received?

My mom is always telling me, “you’ll never be happy with anything until you’re happy with yourself.” I wrote a song about it. I know it’s not really advice, but it’s something that always stuck with me.

Memphis is…?

Ha. Rock and roll, I guess.

Someone’s making a mix of Memphis artists. You get to pick one song for the mix. What’s your pick?

“Loose Diamonds,” by Jack Oblivion, or Jack O and the Tennessee Tearjerkers.

[Note: I couldn’t find “Loose Diamonds” online. If anyone has it, let me know in the comments!]

What’s the best local show you’ve seen?

There’s a really great band called the City Champs. I saw them play at the Buccaneer and they’re fucking ridiculous. As far as non-local artists, I opened up for Chuck Prophet a while back and he blew me away. I finished my set thinking I just killed it, and he blew me away.

Favorite bar in town?

It depends on who you ask. I spent a lot of time over the years at the P&H, but my favorite little hideaway is Ernestine & Hazel’s. I’m like that guy at the end of the bar, sitting with my drink, listening to Otis Redding, hiding away from everybody.

Where would you like to see your career in one year? Five years? Ten years?

One thing I’ve learned over the years is to be more realistic with my goals. As a kid, I thought by the time I was 29, I’d be like Tom Petty. I still want to be that someday; I still want to be a great songwriter. I don’t feel like I am yet.

That Streetside Symphony album, The Curse, is about the “curse of music.” In my family, we always talked about “the old Stanfill luck” of being a musician. My dad was a musician, and he looked at it that way: he couldn’t get it out it. It’s the same with me: I couldn’t quit playing music if I wanted to. It’s like a magnet.

That sounds like a good cap to put on the convo. Thanks a bunch, Jeremy, it’s been fun.

For sure, man. Sorry–you probably got a bunch of “fuck” and “shit” on that tape. Sorry about that.

No worries. I’ll edit those out.

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